


Luck Is a Feeble Thing

by thekingoftrash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (slightly) Hurt Keith, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Shiro (Voltron), Dialogue Heavy, Humor, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pining, Protective shiro, SHEITH - Freeform, Some Fluff, Technically pre-relationship - Freeform, protective keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 07:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13993638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingoftrash/pseuds/thekingoftrash
Summary: Keith figures that his luck must be terrible.That, or the Galra are just really lucky.or: Shiro and Keith get captured by the galra. The universe sucks.





	Luck Is a Feeble Thing

Really, it had been through sheer luck that the galra managed to get their grubby little hands on Keith. 

Firstly, if they hadn’t managed to shoot the black lion _ just _ so, Shiro wouldn’t have gotten knocked down until he was pulled into the nearest planet’s gravity.

And if they hadn’t done that, Keith wouldn’t have freaked out, immediately chasing after him. And if Keith hadn’t done _ that _ , then Lance wouldn’t have needed to try and protect them from the battle cruisers.

If Lance didn’t need to fight singlehandedly against the galra until backup arrived, then he wouldn’t have been overpowered to the point of being knocked back, which led to him knocking into Keith’s lion.

And if that hadn’t happened, Keith wouldn’t have been sucked into the gravitational pull with no warning, only able to watch with a growing horror as he crashed into the atmosphere.

And if that didn’t happen, he presumes that the galra wouldn’t have been able to grab two knocked out paladins and their lions. 

But all of that  _ did _ happen, so now Keith is stuck in some galra headquarters with his armor stripped away and an angry looking guard escorting him somewhere.

“Where are you taking me?” Keith asks, pulling on his restraints. The guard replies by tightening his grip on his wrists. Claws dig deep into Keith’s skin and he grits his teeth to keep from yelling or doing something stupid, like trying to attack him. (he did that earlier, when they were taking away his weapons. He recieved a busted lip in return.). They march through an endless list of corridors that all look the same before they stop at a single door. 

Keith looks over it, tries to see if there’s anything significant to it, but there’s nothing that makes it any more special than the other doors he’s seen. The door slides open and the guard lets go, shoving him so hard that he kisses the ground. Pain blooms in his jaw until his ears are ringing and he’s seeing specks of white.

And then the door is closed, and Keith is engulfed in darkness. His heart beats in his throat, but he swallows down the immediate sense of panic.

“Keith!” Shiro’s voice makes him jump up immediately. “Shiro?” 

From a corner of the darkness, Shiro emerges with a hand cradling his galra arm- it looks like there’s a band on it, but he drops it once he sees Keith.

He  runs over and they close the gap of space with a hug. It’s soft and warm and it ends much too soon. 

When they release, Shiro cradles Keith’s face in his hands. “Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?” He asks, voice high strung and worried.

“I’m okay,” Keith whispers. He grabs onto Shiro’s wrists lightly, a reassurance that he’s not going anywhere.

Keith glances at Shiro’s arm. “What happened?”

“They disabled it somehow,” Shiro says, guilt smothering his voice. He presses their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”    
“I was supposed to protect you,” Shiro breathes. But his grip is too tight, his eyes are too shiny, his voice wavers and-

And he buries his face into Keith’s hair, letting out a single, quiet, choked sob.

It’s the worst thing Keith has ever heard.

“You did, Shiro.” He wraps his arms around the taller man’s back, pulling him close until there’s no more space to separate them but atoms and the words they say. “You  _ did _ .”

He isn’t sure if the words fall of deaf ears or if they’re all Shiro needs, because the next thing he knows is that they’re sinking to the floor, a pile of limbs and squeezes that scream  _ I’m here, _ and the only thing that fills the room is the sound of Shiro’s broken sobs.

They stay like that, frozen in time, a blip in the expanse of the world, until the cell door slides open and heavy footsteps follow. Shiro tenses, but he lifts himself away from Keith, looking at him straight in the eye.

“I’ll protect you,” He says, with determination hardened in his eyes and the voice of a man with resolve, even when he’s being lifted by the arms, dragged out like nothing more than a sack of meat.

And Keith believes him.   
________

The next time he sees Shiro, the man is hanging limply from the guard’s elbows, head tipped down with his face shielded. But even from there, he can see the blue and mottled purple dancing along his skin, new cuts that will turn into scars etched into the linings of his breath. He watches, horror and rage boiling through his veins as the guards drop him to the ground, shutting the door. Shiro lays in a heap on the floor and Keith dives forward, knees scraping against the ground as he takes Shiro’s head in his hands. “Shiro?”

With shaking hands, he twists his head until he can see his face. And it’s-- it’s  _ awful _ . Shiro’s eyes are screwed shut like he’s in pain, and there’s fresh lining of blood on the scar that runs along his nose. Dried blood sticks in clumps of his hair and face, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Black and purple are mottled together in some twisted harmony, circling the outside of his left eye. 

“Jesus, Shiro. What did they do to you?” He mutters, mostly to himself. With unsteady hands, he rips off his gloves, pressing them against his temple. They’re not the right material and much too small, but he needs to see if there’s any open wounds with all the blood. Although… he pauses, eyes trailing down the black paladin’s body. Shiro is curled up around Keith’s legs, shivering and he looks so small and  _ fragile  _ that it breaks his heart.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” he whispers, honestly. Shiro lets out a groan, but it’s impossible to tell if he’s trying to say something or just has impeccable timing. With one hand, he cards through messy locks of snow, blood and grime as he grabs hold of Shiro’s arm, looking it over. Aside from various bruises, he seems okay. It’s impossible to tell if his abdomen or torso has been injured due to the prisoner outfit, but there’s no red seeping through so he’s probably alright. Ditto for his legs- all that are visible are his ankles, and aside from some swelling on the inner parts, there’s nothing that’ll kill him.

Keith lets out a sigh. It seems like most of the damage had been done to the face, and images of what they could have possibly done flash through his mind. He presses the heel of a hand against his eyelids until he’s seeing stars, because this is  _ not _ the time to be worrying about that. Subconsciously, he starts tugging through Shiro’s tufts at a slightly rougher pace, all the way down to the base of his neck until there’s a sudden shooting pain that spreads from his fingertips all the way up his arm.

“Ow! Fuck!” He seethes, ripping his arm away like he’s been set on fire. The second he’s cradling his arm, searching for any injuries, the pain has vanished. The tip of his index finger is trickling a thin trail of blood. “What..?” He trails off, wiping his finger against his prisoner pants. The blood smears, but more soon starts running along his finger alarmingly fast for what couldn’t have been more than a small prick. Keith frowns, carefully lifting Shiro’s head to see what the hell he touched.

He sees nothing. His frown deepens, leaning in for a closer look. 

But it’s spotless. There isn’t even a speck of dirt on the back of Shiro’s neck, and there’s no marks that indicate anything sharp. The back of his prisoner rags cling to his body, and there’s definitely not something sharp enough on it to draw blood.

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck?” Keith asks aloud. He’s always preferred narrating his questions and thoughts-- it helps him keep organized. Especially when his favorite person is laying in his lap, unconscious for who knows how long, trapped in a galra prison cell with no idea how the hell he’s going to get out of here.

The kind of prison that leaves their captives bloody and bruised and dirty, no less.

“Bloody...dirty.. Woah. Hold up,” Keith whispers to himself, eyes widening. Shiro’s neck is spotless, while the rest of his body is marked in some shape or form. There’s  _ definitely _ something there, or there was, at the very least. And the galra had wanted to erase any trace of it.

But then again, he has no idea what it could possibly be. For all Keith knows, the galra implanted some sort of mind control chip deep into Shiro’s neck that would be impossible to retrieve without killing or disabling him.

And if that’s the case, it’s probably a better idea to wait for Shiro to wake up and see if he knows anything before attempting something that could hurt them. 

And since he’s in it for the long haul, he decides to make things more comfortable. He drags Shiro back until he can comfortably sit against the wall, and then tries to fit in as much of the man as he can onto his lap. Shiro groans again, and a large tremor runs through his body. He lets out something akin to a whimper, curling in on himself as one of his hands grips tightly onto Keith’s leg.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, quietly. He starts petting Shiro’s hair again, hoping to coax him out of whatever they did that made him like this. 

Shiro doesn’t reply.

 

So Keith sighs, resting his head against the wall as he robotically sifts through the soft locks of hair. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that they’re back at the Garrison, watching some old movie on the awful tv Shiro put in their dorm, Matt tossing popcorn into his mouth as they lounged on the couch together.

He lets out an exhale of breath, fingers slipping off Shiro’s head. 

Good times.

_________

Keith wakes up to darkness. He blinks blearily, feeling disoriented when his body registers the fact that he’s sitting on the ground. 

What..?

Oh. Got kidnapped. Right. 

He yawns, stretching his arm out to feel the familiar texture of Shiro’s curls. But his hand catches the air, and suddenly he realizes that there isn’t any pressure on his lap. He blinks once, twice, trying to adjust to the darkness, and sure enough, there’s no longer a Shiro curled up against him. Keith can feel dread rise in his stomach as his heart twists painfully.

“Shiro?” He calls. His heart beats in the back of his throat.

“Keith,” Shiro replies. His voice is rough and dry and it cracks in the end but it’s unmistakably  _ him _ \-- he’s curled up in the far corner of the room, against the wall with the door. There’s enough light shining down that Keith can see his bloodshot eyes and his black eye turning an ugly shade of yellow.  He lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“You okay?” He asks, settling back down on the floor. It’s probably best to leave Shiro with some space right now. Shiro blinks like he didn’t hear what he said, but then he nods, slowly. “Oh, yeah. Well, as good as I can be, I guess.” He shrugs-- or Keith thinks he does, at least. It’s still kind of hard to see him properly.

Keith hums, knocking his head back against the wall. 

“Don’t do that.” He can hear Shiro’s frown.

“Do what?”   
  
“Hitting your head against the wall.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need you getting a concussion.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “We don’t? Do you have an idea on how to get out of here?” Shiro sighs.

“No, or… well, not exactly,” he says, but there’s a falter in his voice. That makes Keith raise his head, moving into a criss-cross position. “So you  _ do _ have an idea.”

“I have a semblance of one,” Shiro replies with an edge of defiance in his voice. 

“Will you tell me what it is?”

“It’s dangerous.”

That makes him snort. “ _ Staying _ here is going to be dangerous.” Shiro is silent.

“Right,” he mutters after some silence. “Right,” he repeats, but it sounds like it’s for himself. Shiro lifts his head. “When they were taking me to be interrogated, I tried to memorize the paths they took and try to come up with a template of the ship’s map.” The fact that he got all of those injuries from  _ interrogatio _ n makes Keith’s blood boil beneath his skin. His fingers itch to make whoever was responsible beg for their life.

“But the problem is, I’ve only gone once. There’s a lot of gaps and I don’t know how accurate my memory is,” he finishes. Keith mulls over the thought, and an idea immediately springs to mind. If Shiro was interrogated, then he probably would be, too. Memorize the parts that Shiro forgot and then they’d have an accurate idea of the ship’s layout.

“What do you remember?”

“Uh… right before we entered the room they used for interrogation, there was a split in the hallway. Another guard as walking through the door, so I got a glimpse of it. I...I think it’s the control room,” he says, frowning. 

“They’d interrogate you so close to a room you could escape from?”

Shiro works his jaw. “It’s possible,” he says. “If the galra here don’t know me personally, they might not think I’d be able to escape.” Keith hums. That’d explain why they’d be stupid enough to put them in a cell together.

Keith shifts, sliding himself closer to Shiro. “Okay, so that means they’re underestimating us, right? We can use it to our advantage.”

“Hypothetically, yes.”

“So, they’ll probably take me to be interrogated next. If I memorize the parts you didn’t, then we can--” he’s cut off by Shiro throwing himself forward, their shoulders knocking together as he grabs him by the collar of his prisoner rags. He looks inexplicably _ angry _ .

“ _ No. _ Absolutely not.” He growls. Keith frowns. “But--”

“No. I’m getting you out of here before that. I’m not..” he takes a breath, closing his eyes. “I’m not letting them do  _ this  _ to you, Keith,” he says, hand gliding over his face.

Not unlike when the last time, Keith grabs onto Shiro’s wrists. “Shiro,” he whispers, voice pleading. “I’m not letting them do any more to you, either.” That seems to hit him hard, because he lets go of Keith,  crashing down onto the floor next to him. They’re silent for a short while.

Then, Keith gets an idea.

“Shiro.”

“Hm?”

“What if we came up with an escape plan  _ without _ me having to wait to be interrogated?” That makes Shiro turn to look at him, expression suspicious. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing risky,” Keith assures him. Quick as can be, he swipes at Shiro’s neck until nothing but  _ agony _ runs through his arm, making his movements jerky as he lets out a small gasp of pain.

“Keith, what the fuck?” Shiro asks, fear in his expression as he immediately grabs Keith’s arm. “What _ was _ that?”

“You tell me,” Keith gasps out, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to move his arm on his own for a little bit, but luckily, there’s blood trickling down his finger. “Shiro, make a blueprint with my arm.” He looks confused for a second before he looks down, realization dawning on his face.

“Keith, I’m not making a blueprint out of your blood.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Keith barks back.

“I…” Shiro hesitates, looking conflicted. He cradles Keith’s arm in his hands, looking at the door, the floor, and at him. “Fine. But if it starts hurting, you’ll tell me, right?”

No. “Yes.”

Shiro takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Alright.” The fact that he’s so scared about hurting Keith would seem adorable in a normal situation, but the fact that his arm moving at all makes it hurt renders him unable to find it funny.

They crawl until they’re near the middle of the room where the light catches onto the floor the most before he starts painting the floor in blood. The jerky movements makes Keith pinch his leg to keep himself from crying out. This  _ needs _ to be done. He can’t have Shiro backing out because he’s in pain.

Luckily for them, Keith’s finger apparently has an unlimited supply of blood and Shiro works fast, not to mention that the floor actually seems to have fairly good material for this. It’s their saving grace, he supposes. Keith watches, slightly awed as Shiro makes a rough map of the base they’re on, making labels with handwriting so bad it should be illegal.

“This is pretty metal, huh?” Keith says, when he trusts himself to speak without screaming. The pain has diminished somewhat, so he’s able to actually focus some more.

Shiro snorts. “Yeah. If eleven year old me knew that someday I’d be painting the floor in somebody’s blood, I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“You say that with sarcasm, but I  _ know  _ that you were an emo kid.”

“No you don’t.”

“Matt showed me pictures.” Shiro gapes, a look of betrayal flashing on his face as he continues to paint. “He  _ didn’t _ !”

“Oh, but he did,” Keith replies, smirking. He remembers the pictures as clear as day-- young Shiro with hair gelled up, bloody tears painted onto his face with an mcr poster in the background. A screenshot of young Shiro’s first social media posts, which were quotes about being not normal and too intelligent for this world. Slightly older Shiro with the tips of his hair dyed red, arm slung over a life sized cutout of Gerard Way. Keith remembers laughing so hard that he choked on his water and was red in the face. Matt panicked and tried to perform the heimlich manuever on him, but it didn’t work out very well because it just made Keith choke even more.

“I am going to actually murder him when we get back,” Shiro says flatly.

“Please don’t.” Or at least, not until he’s able to have those pictures immortalized somewhere in the castle because Keith sure as hell isn’t going to let him  _ ever _ live that down.

“Alright, I’m done.” Keith retracts his hand, looking over the map. There’s a lot of gaps, and about half of the ship is completely unmarked. “Doesn’t seem that done.”

“Yeah, my apologies for not remembering how the entire ship looks,” Shiro retorts, though there’s a small quirk of his lips.

“Well, it’s not a problem,” Keith replies honestly. He looks over the map, before filling in the blanks with his still-flowing blood.

“What are you doing?”

“The galra usually have a set template for their bases, which ranges from three to six types. This one looks most like..” judging from the way the cell rooms are placed, this base is meant to be more of a hub for supplies rather than prisoners. “Template five.”

“And you know this because…?” Shiro trails off, peeking over Keith’s shoulder as he works. “Blade of Marmora,” Keith says. “Kolivan had me memorize them for infiltration missions.” Shiro hums. 

“Guess that came in handy.” 

“Yeah.”

After some time, Keith’s finally satisfied with the result. He leans back, rubbing his finger against his pants. Luckily, the bleeding stops almost immediately.  Shiro flanks his side, looking over the map with his brows raised. “Wow. This.. this is really detailed. I’m impressed, Keith.” He smiles at him, and Keith can feel his heart flutter inside of his rib cage.

“Alright,” he says, pointing to a small room towards the left and center of the ship. “That’s where we are right now. And that,” Keith says, running finger towards the upper right of the map, “is where I think you were taken. The central command room usually has three entry and exit points, and I think you found one of the side doors.”

“Huh.” Shiro furrows his brows. “So we should enter from one of those, then, to keep the attention to ourselves minimal.” Keith nods. “Yeah. If the guards take me to the same place, that means we’d have to go up, to the right, go through the center corridor, to the right again, and then through the fork.” Shiro frowns. 

“Keith, we agreed that we’d find a way out without you being interrogated,” he emphasises, hands curled into fists in his lap. “And I’m staying true to that,” Keith replies. “How many guards were escorting you?”

“Two.”

Perfect. They really are underestimating them. “Okay. So, hypothetically, there’s going to be two guards to take me away.”

“But since there’s only two…” Shiro trails off, eyes widening.

“We can take them on,” Keith agrees. But the black paladin’s frown sets in again. “My arm still isn’t working, though.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Shiro, you’re 6 feet tall and pure muscle. You’ll be able to overpower an unsuspecting guard just fine. I’ll take on the guard that’s going to be holding me. And you,” he points to the corner where Shiro had been hiding earlier, “can hide there and take down the second guard. If all works out well, we’ll be armed with blasters and free to make our way to the command center.”

“Okay, he agrees, nodding. “But we’ll have to be careful. Even if they aren’t expecting much from us, the command center is always filled with guards,” Shiro points out. Keith grins. “Yeah. But, we have two things. Blasters, and the element of surprise.”

Shiro’s eyebrows raise for the fifth time that day. “And you say you don’t have leadership skills. That’s…” he rubs his chin thoughtfully. “It’s risky, but I’ve done more with less. As long as you’re sure you want to go through with this, I’m in.”

“Well, I do. So now we just have to wait,” Keith says, lying down on the floor. It’s cold, even beneath his rags, but with a plan in place he feels slightly euphoric. 

“Okay, but before that, we should  _ probably _ clean up the blood.” Keith freezes. “Oh. Yeah.” Right. He can’t imagine the guards would be too happy if they saw a bloody escape plan on the ground.

Luckily for him, Shiro quickly and efficiently cleans off the floor until it looks brand new. Then, he lies down next to Keith. Their shoulders brush, but it’s so warm that it’s easily welcome.

“And now,” he sighs, closing his eyes, “we wait.”

___________

Keith wakes up to the sound of approaching footsteps. He’s disoriented for a split second before everything comes rushing back. He sits up, heart catching in his throat. They need to be ready.

“Shiro?” He whispers with urgency in his voice.

“I’m already in place,” Shiro replies from the dark corner he’s supposed to be hiding from. A thumbs up appears from the murky black. Keith doesn’t reply but scrambles up, fists clenched together as two shadows appear in the doorway. 

The door slides open to reveal, thankfully, just two guards. One of them is short and stubby, and the other one he recognizes to be the one that took him here in the first place.

“What do you want?!” He barks, not having to try very hard for fury to ignite in his eyes. The guard Keith knows enters first, a scowl on his face. “You know exactly what,” he says. His voice is deeper than he expected.

With surprising speed, the guard spins Keith around until his wrists are locked together in his claws. Keith throws a desperate look over his shoulder, where the second guard is standing outside. Fuck. Not good. “You got this?” Stubby asks. 

“Yeah,” Angry Guy replies. Stubby waves, leaving. Keith’s eyes widen. That’s-- bad? Good? Now there’s only one guard.  _ There’s only one guard _ .

Luckily, Shiro seems to understand this at the same time, because he leaps from the shadows. He locks his arms around Angry Guy’s neck, who then releases Keith. Keith twirls around, grabbing the gun and handcuffs that he had strapped to his waist. Angry Guy roars in rage, but when he tosses the cuffs to Shiro, he’s able to handcuff him without much of a fight. Shiro shoves him to the other side of the cell. 

“We’ll be going now,” he says. Keith holds up the gun in warning as they back out of the room, which automatically shuts with a hiss once they’re out in the hall.

“We did it,” he says, grinning. He twirls the gun in his hand before handing it to Shiro. 

“Why are you giving it to me?” He asks, blinking down at it. 

“Because there’s only one and you’re better with a gun than me,” Keith replies. Shiro looks like he wants to say something but just sighs, taking it in his hands. “Alright. But if we can take down another guard..”

“Then I’ll take the second gun,” he promises. “Now, let’s get going. We probably don’t have much time.”

Since Keith is more experienced with memorizing galra ship paths, Shiro lets him lead the way, though he seems unhappy about it. Keith only hopes that he’s taking them the right way, because they don’t encounter any guards or even sentries during their trek. It sets off alarm bells in the back of his mind, but he fights it down.  _ ‘It’s probably nothing, _ ’ he rationalizes to himself.  _ ‘And even if there is something, there’s not much we can do,’ _ he thinks.

“Keith.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we should find another way out?” Shiro asks, and even behind him, Keith can hear his frown. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Damn. So it’s not just him, and he trusts Shiro’s intuition.

“There isn’t another way out,” Keith grits out. “We need to be able to communicate with Allura. If we’re in space or on another planet, they won’t be able to find us without our armor or lions. We have to find the control room.” a hand rests heavily on his shoulder.

“Even if all the guards might be gathered there, waiting for us because they know we escaped?” Shiro asks softly. Keith works his jaw. “We have to take that risk.” Shiro sighs, falling back a few paces. “Alright. I trust your judgement.” Keith decides not to tell him that that is a terrible idea.

After a few more turns, they finally end up at the split that Shiro had mentioned. It’s slight, but Keith notices how his shoulders square up slightly, eyes narrowing. “Let me go first,” he says. Keith blinks. “Why?”

“Because I have a gun. And if this is a trap, I’m not letting you go with nothing to defend yourself with.” Keith doesn’t like the idea of Shiro going first, but he  _ does _ have a point. “Fine.”

He hides on one side of the door as Shiro overrides the passcode. Apparently, even with his hand disabled, it still works and registers like he isn’t a prisoner escapee. The door makes an approving sound before it slides open. Keith peeks out from the corner, and Shiro stands with the gun held, mouth pressed into a firm line.

And there’s nothing.

Well, it’s obviously the control room. It’s a big dome with steps leading to the front, and there’s windows all around it. It looks like they’re on a planet, if the green shrubbery is anything to go by. But other than that, there’s not a single soul. 

“What?” Shiro sounds as confused as Keith feels. They exchange a suspicious glance before cautiously entering the room. They search the perimiter of it, before ending up in the center of the room.

“There’s nobody here,” Shiro says with a dawning realization.

“Then let’s make the most of it,” Keith replies.

Shiro stands with his gun ready, hiding between the other two doors as Keith runs over to the command panel. His fingers fly over the keyboard as he sifts through code and words in galran--they’re impossible to read without his helmet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t find anything.  He thinks he’s found the communications line when a shot fires over his shoulder and hits the screen. He jumps back in alarm, whirling around to see who shot him.

Standing in the central doorway is none other than Stubby, flanked by two sentries. There’s a scowl on his face. “So it  _ is _ you rats,” he growls. He points a finger at Keith. “Shoot him,” he tells the sentries. The sentries comply, robotically aiming towards him and powering up their guns.

Then, a few things happen at once. 

Keith dives out of the way, rolling over until he’s on his feet. Shiro appears from where he was just hidden from Stubby’s viewpoint, firing on the sentries just as they shoot. He manages to take one down, but the other ends up hitting the command panel. Sparks fly as smoke rises. Shiro shoots again, which knocks down the second sentry.

“What--” Stubby cuts himself off, shock turning into rage as he looks at the fallen sentries. “Oh, you  _ little  _ shits.” He grabs the gun the second sentry had under it and aims at Shiro, firing away blindly. But Shiro’s no novice and he dives out of the way, shooting the guard square in the shoulder.

He yowls in pain, dropping the gun as he grasps onto his shoulder. He has the same armor on as the other guy, which probably means he’s equipped with the same items.

Keith dives forward, knocking the guard down like a bowling pin. He scrambles for the cuffs on the guy’s waist as he claws in a panic. They catch onto Keith’s shirt, tearing marks into his chest. It burns like liquid fire, but he just grits his teeth and grabs a hold of Stubby’s flailing hands, cuffing them together. 

Shiro’s by his side by then, and he hauls Stubby up by his cuffed arms. “If you do anything stupid,” Shiro says, “then I won’t hesitate to kill you.” The guard’s face melts into worry as he nods profusely. “O-of course not!”

“Good.” Shiro drops him onto the floor, a good enough distance away from the sentries so that he can’t try anything. 

Once he turns to Keith, his expression turns into concern. “Keith, are you okay?” His eyes drift down to Keith’s chest.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, walking over to the control panel. He doesn’t mention the fact that for some reason, Shiro seeing his chest makes him feel incredibly uncomfortable. His face feels hot as he logs back onto the system.

It beeps in response, showing a red circle with a hand held up in the middle. Large words appear on screen, but Keith can’t tell what they mean. The words on the bottom melt away into a box. “Uh, Shiro?”

“Yeah?” Shiro’s by his side in an instant, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Keith points up. “I think the shot might have activated a password system,” Keith admits. He holds back screaming from frustration because they’re _so_ _damn close_ to being rescued that the thought of it ending like this makes him want to tear his hair out. Shiro’s frown deepens, and he looks over at the guard, who sweats nervously.

Keith watches as Shiro bends down to the guard’s height, eyes holding a certain sinisterness to them. “Where are the keys to unlock the cuff on my arm?” He asks plainly. Stubby shakes in place. “I-in my pocket,” he says, nodding to the one on his chest. With one hand holding the gun, Shiro digs into the pocket, and takes out a small key. He smiles, but there’s nothing good behind it. “Thanks.” He straightens back up, coming back to Keith.

“Alright,” Shiro says, dropping the gun as he twists the knob into the cuff on his arm, which then clatters to the ground. “Let’s see if this works.”

Keith holds up his hands, backing away. “All yours.” He watches with some fascination as Shiro holds his lit palm to the panel, which shuts off the password system immediately. He types some words in before a screen pops up. 

“Shiro?” Allura’s face appears, and Keith lets out a small sigh of relief. Behind her, Coran perks up. “Shiro’s calling you?” 

“I am,” Shiro says, arms crossed and smiling. Keith comes over so that he’s in view. Allura’s eyes widen. “And Keith!” 

That makes Coran zoom over so that he’s in the camera space as well. “Young paladins! Oh--my, Shiro, what happened to your face?” 

“Long story,” he replies. “Can you guys come pick us up?”

“Absolutely,” Allura grins, looking down as she types something. “We’ve been looking for you, but we were so busy helping Lance and taking down those galra-- I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, Princess,” Keith assures her. She smiles thinly. “Thank you, Keith. Now, what are your coordinates?”

Shiro falters, but Keith notices that the planet’s name is on a small info box on the screen towards the left. Or he’s pretty sure it’s the planet--- there’s a name with a spherical picture next to it. “We’re on planet… Seycury. I think.”

“Seycury?” Coran asks, looking intrigued. “Why, I used to vacation there in my young years! Of course, that was until they were conquered by the galra…” He looks wistfully at something offscreen. Allura frowns. 

“Alright, I’ve set my coordinates for Seycury. Where are you located on it?”

“We’re on a galra base,” Shiro says. “There were only a couple of guards and sentries we saw, so I don’t think it’s very tightly controlled. Allura nods, eyes widening as she looks at something. “I’ve got it! I believe you two are on a galran transport base that lost most of its connections hundreds of years ago.” She glances back up at them. “You got lucky.”

“We did,” Shiro agrees. Keith bites back a snort. Lucky, maybe, if you count the fact that Shiro got his face beaten in. Allura realizes that too, if her expression is anything to go by.

“Alright, we will see the two of you soon. Stay safe,” Allura says.

“Will do.” Shiro mock salutes her as the connection shuts off. They’re left with a silent room. 

Keith crosses his arms, frowning. “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird that there weren’t any guards on this ship?” He asks. Shiro glances over at him. “Yeah, it’s very weird. I’ll look into it when we get back.” 

Keith nods. “Alright.” 

Shiro sighs, sitting down on one of the steps. Keith sits next to him, lying down. The world outside is dark, with multitudes of stars twinkling through the thick leaves and greenery. “Now what?”

“Now,” Shiro says, looking up at the sky as well, “we wait.”

“I’m still here, you know,” Stubby says.

“We know.”

________

In the end, it took the others until morning on the planet to find them. Apparently, something about the planet’s atmosphere threw the lion’s sensors off, but since they knew where they were it wasn’t that big of a deal.

They found the other two lions and their armor not too far away from the base, hidden in the trees and shrubbery. But since the lions are red and black, the green and white shrubs didn’t do much. 

The second they got back to the castle, Shiro had been thrown into the pods to treat his injuries, while Keith researched the base on his holopad by the pod. He had refused to leave until Shiro was okay, so Hunk brought him food and Lance gave him a blanket and Pidge let him use her laptop for a little bit. 

\---

“You’re really concerned about that base, huh?” Shiro asks the night he’s been released. Keith is sitting in the lounge, knees pressed together as he pours over every resource he has. He blinks blearily when he tears his eyes off from the screen long enough to notice how nice Shiro looks when he isn’t all black and blue. “Yeah,” he says, when he realizes that he’s supposed to reply.

Shiro plops down next to him, resting his chin on his shoulder. “If I’m being honest,” he says, “I am too.” He tugs on Keith’s blanket until it’s covering the both of them. “Something about it doesn’t sit right with me.”

Keith yawns, shifting the angle of the holopad for Shiro to see better. “If you’d like to take a look, be my guest. I haven’t found anything out of the ordinary, so far.”

Even though he can’t see his face, Keith can feel Shiro smile. “I will. But  _ you _ need some sleep.” 

“No, I don’t.”

“Keith, Pidge told me that she found you awake from when we were at the base till now. That’s over 30 hours.”

“So?”

“ _ So _ ,” Shiro says, shutting the pad off, “I’m going to sit here until you fall asleep.” Keith gapes. “You  _ cannot  _ be serious right now.”

“Oh, but I am.” Shiro goddamn  _ winks _ at him as he pulls out another blanket, standing up as he pulls it over his shoulders. Stubbornly, Keith lays out his legs as far as he can, pulling his blanket over himself so that Shiro can’t sit by him and baby him.

Unfortunately for him, Shiro takes another route and plops himself onto Keith. 

“And now,” Shiro says cheerily, “I can make sure you won’t be able to leave.” Keith groans, throwing his head back.

“This is just punishment for me knowing about your emo phase, isn’t it?” 

“Maybe.” Shiro shifts a little until he’s splayed out evenly on Keith. The pressure of his body is actually kind of nice, even if Shiro is built like a truck. “But I really am worried for you, Keith,” he says softly. His brows are knit in worry and there’s a frown on his face.  And-- _ damn _ it. Keith can’t ignore that face. It’s the Shiro Puppy Face and it’s literally the worst thing that could ever happen to him because Shiro could ask him to rob a bank and Keith would do it in a heartbeat if he had that face.

“Fine,” he growls with no edge, digging his face into the cushions until he’s comfortable. “I’ll sleep.” Once again, he can feel Shiro’s smile. “Thank you,” he says sweetly, and his stupid happy voice makes this all worth it.

_ And maybe, _ Keith thinks as the world begins to grow dim, _ it’d be worth it anyway. _

**Author's Note:**

> I actually died writing this so don't mind me if I go into hibernation for 59347 years  
> I couldn't find the right time to put it, but the whole thing with Shiro's neck is just leftover effects from some interrogation techniques they used.  
> I might add a second part (with the whole susspishus thing) but honestly who knows  
> I meant to injure Keith in this but,, uh,, I didn't oops,, )':  
> come cry with me about sheith/voltron on my tumblr: asstronerds.tumblr.com


End file.
